[no one falls in love under fluorescent lights]

[homelovefamily]

The party had been different.

It certainly had more in common with the occasional ball that she remembers from her childhood with their bright lights and beautiful dresses and so much champagne than the few other parties she’s been too. Memories keep slipping in more and more each day, leaving her a little unsettled. How does she fit that life, those memories with their ups and downs against the last ten years? It feels like she is two people.

Still she had gone to the party and marveled at it, feeling both at home and strangely disconnected. The cocktail she’s had has done nothing to help those feelings. Deciding to not stay too late was for the best.

Her coat isn’t buttoned, the bright red standing out against the paleness of her dress. The curls in her hair have loosened to waves and she’s certain that she’s leaving a trail of glitter in her way as she walks home. It’s late, but it doesn’t feel far and the cool air feels good after the warmth of the crowd.

Valentine’s Day is a foreign holiday to her, dedicated to a saint that she can name and speak to, but feels no connection to. It’s supposed to be all love and romance, a day to cherish those you love and pursue those that you want to love you.

She doesn’t know much of that kind of love. Anya’s felt that quickening of her heart, the warm pleasant feeling that comes from the mere sight of someone special, especially when their attention is fixed on her.

Her mind might be full of tumbled up thoughts of love and the past and how far she’s come from where she started, but the years have taught her to always be hyper aware when she’s alone at night. Darrow might be safer than some places she’s been, but it is still a city. Movement coming from a cut through walkway catches her attention and she freezes under the light of a street lamp, body tensing for a fight.

The figure moves and is caught by the light from another streetlamp. Realizing who it is, she relaxes a bit. Not fully, but more than she was thirty seconds ago.

“Good evening Gleb,” she greets, trying to sound calmer than the adrenaline in her veins says that she is.

Comments

[butstill]

It's strange to be thinking that far ahead. Since arriving in Darrow, Gleb hasn't been able to do so, too caught up in trying to make sense of the present to consider the future, even one that's only a few months off. Chances are, if the past two months are any indication, that time will pass far more quickly than it currently seems like it will. Even so, there's a moment where it feels odd to be trying to make any plans at all, as if there's anywhere either of the two of them could go from here. People vanish, he's heard, and not the way that people back home would, where everyone knew what that really meant. That's such an abstract concept, though, that he hasn't thought about it applying to them. Maybe it's just that it's hard to believe that she could want that — some nebulous time spent together when the weather turns warmer. She's here now, though, and he's already told her the worst thing about himself that he possibly could, the one that's the likeliest to send her running. He's not sure what it means that she's still here, but he's grateful for it.

"Yes," he agrees, as if he could do anything else, his smile widening just a touch as he sees her starting to do the same in turn. "I suppose we will." The boardwalk is all closed down now, only a handful of shops open year-round, but the structures all still stand. It's easy to imagine how beautiful she would look, illuminated by the colored lights, but he tries to set the thought of that aside quickly. The present is far more important, even if he has to bury a faint disappointment that they're nearing her building. At least the discomfort from moments ago has subsided, leaving them to end the evening on what he hopes is a nice note. "Something to look forward to, perhaps?"

[homelovefamily]

"Yes, certainly something to look forward too." Anya can't quite imagine what summer will look like here. Her mind can conjure up laughing children and beach picnics and far fewer clothes than the summer holidays of her youth. She hasn't had a chance to relax and enjoy nice weather in years, either working or walking through it. For Gleb, she assumes the story must be similar. There had been wars going on, new societies to rebuild. The promised spring didn't come quick enough.

She gives him another smile before moving to extract her keys from her too-small purse. Holding them in her left hand, she guides them to her apartment door, glad that there aren't any stairs for them to walk up. In her heels that would be almost treacherous.

The conversation has turned back to a nice, mellow note, but here at the door of her flat, she is almost sorry that the night is truly finished. It always had to come to an end. They couldn't keep walking for forever, but part of her wishes that it could go on. But barring inviting him in — an idea that makes her heart pound — this is all that there is left.

Sliding her key into the lock, she turns it and opens it just enough before turning back to him. "Thank you for walking me home, I appreciate it," she says softly, as she looks up at him. Then an impulse seizes her and she takes a step and brushes quick kiss against his cheek. It's more of the ghost of a kiss than any actual contact.

Returning to the ground, she steps back into the doorway. "Goodnight, Gleb. Please get home safe."

And just like that, she steps into her apartment, sparing a brief glance back at him as she closes the door.